This dust-blown town doesn't sleep
It just lies under the covers, scared and crowded
Forever scanning the skies for hope
No love-songs or lullaby-lines to comfort it,
Just the empty moves and broken melodies,
Penciled hastily by distracted fingers
This once proud and golden skyline
Now hangs miserably in metallic defeat
Blanketed by an endless and unforgiving fog
The plight of one becomes the plight of many
Rejoice, for these are the spoils of war
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
SO true!
Especially what you said in your poetry: The plight of one becomes the plight of many.
That is so true. The way you started this write left me wanting more, good write and words that speak honestly and directly from the heart.
-
wow. this was good
your word usage really aided in penning some good imagery
Adding your comment:
